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His mouth is against mine again, warm and inviting. It pushes away whatever just spurred me to hack at my hair, and brings in the feelings of home. Then, he takes my hand and leads me to his room, where he picks out a more appropriate outfit for whatever it is he has planned.
***
Two hours later, we’re pulling up to the bookstore with full bellies from Fiore’s. Scotty tugs at my hand as I try to head upstairs for the fiction books, and pulls me around to the self-help section. He tucks me under his arm, then stops in front of cooking books.
“Pick one,” he says, braiding his fingers with mine.
I shake my head. “I don’t cook.”
“Exactly. You’re going to start.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re losing weight, Saoirse. You can’t afford to lose anymore. So, pick out a book and for each new meal you try, I’ll give you a reward.”
I scoff. A reward? Like I’m a child. Not happening.
“I’m not cooking,” I say, crossing my arms.
He huffs, letting go of my hand and spinning me so I’m standing in front of him, facing him. “Fine. I’ll cook for you.”
I shrug. “So? You pick, then.”
His hand wraps around my throat and he steps forward, my back hitting the book shelf. Anticipation mixes with lust, and my core tightens, waiting to see what he does next. Brown eyes darken into obsidian as his head dips. The warmth of his breath hits my ear, and I stifle the moan that wants to force its way up my throat.
“Stop being a brat,” he growls.
I fight against his hold, though I know it’s no use. “Or what?” I ask, my voice husky.
“Or I’ll spank you.”
I smirk. “You sliced my palm open and fucked me with our blood. Do you really think a little spank is going to have me shaking in my boots?”
A dark chuckle escapes his sexy lips, then he drags the bottom one through his teeth. “You’ve got a concussion.”
His grip on my throat releases. He drags a finger down my neck, over the fabric of my shirt, until he reaches where the hem of it meets the start of the jeans. His hand glides up my shirt, warm flesh touching the cool of my stomach, until it glides up and cups the swell of my breast. His hand burns my skin, igniting me in ways I haven’t felt before.
“Otherwise, I’d tie you up and punish you for that bratty mouth of yours.” His foot slides between my feet, and he uses it to kick my legs open wider.
I gasp, arching my back to close the distance between us. His nose glides along the bare skin at my throat. Then he bites down hard. I let out a shriek of pain, and he covers my mouth with his hand, then adjusts it so my nose is covered, too, hindering my ability to breathe.
Scotty growls, his tongue licking where he bit. “Shut up before you get us kicked out.”
“Tell me more,” I whisper when he lets go of my mouth.
“I know what you like, princess,” he says, his voice low, the tone cruel.
He’s baiting me. He wants me squirming and wet, and I’m not going to stop him. If he slid his hand between my thighs, he’d find me already slick and wanting him.
“What do I like?” I ask through a breathy sigh.
“You like to beg. Like to be told how bad you’ve been, and youloveto suck cock. You love it when your hair is pulled, and your throat is being used like a needy little slut.“ He grabs my wrists with one hand and shoves them above my head. “And then you like to be told how pretty you are while you’re filled to the brim, taking everything I’ve got to give.”
My throat dries. He’s nailed me spot on, and as much as it turns me on, it freaks me out how well he knows my deepest needs when I’ve never spoken them to anyone. “And you like to hurt,” I say in an attempt to level the playing field. “Leave marks and bruises. Teeth, knives, whatever it is that will make me cry.”
“Mmm, I love your tears.” He flexes his hips, his hard shaft shoving into my stomach. A book falls from above me to the ground with the force. “I want to wake up with you sore, feeling every inch of me for days. Want you to look in the mirror, and think of me when you see all the ways I had you crying with pleasure are marked on your delicate flesh.”
I moan, nodding my head.
